


Five More Minutes

by GrimalKim



Series: The Other Side of The Story [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Lazy Mornings, Morning Cuddles, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimalKim/pseuds/GrimalKim
Summary: Just a short drabble from Hopper's POV about the Sunday mornings he's come to love.
Relationships: Jim "Chief" Hopper/Original Female Character(s), Jim "Chief" Hopper/Reader, Jim "Chief" Hopper/You
Series: The Other Side of The Story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735522
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Five More Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is just a little drabble, but honestly I'd like to do a series based on this coupling - if you'd like to see that, please let me know. I have a bunch of trope filled ideas that I want to play with, but I don't know if it should be a reader insert, or if you'd be happier with an original female character. Because she exists and she would very much enjoy Sunday mornings with the Chief of Police.

Hopper never imagined that the woman he woke up next to on Sunday mornings would be the science teacher at Hawkins High. And yet, there she was, curled into him, head tucked into the crook of his arm that he had draped around her. She was still fast asleep, and he hadn’t been awake for long. The sun slithered between the barely closed curtain, casting a warm glow in the bedroom, and the dawn chorus were almost in full crescendo. Once upon a time, Jim Hopper would have stumbled out of bed, blindly lighting a cigarette on the way to the porch, grumbling about the time, the birds, the bright sun. Now, he couldn’t bring himself to move out of fear he might disturb her. So instead, he rested his head against the pillow, mindful that he didn’t lay on any wayward strands of hair that had invaded his space during the night, and enjoyed this quiet hour. It was rare that he saw this kind of peace – not in Hawkins recent years. But he liked this. He liked having someone who could understand his trying days, who put up with his foul, grumpy moods, and who still came to his bed when he asked her to stay. 

She had seen her own horrors here though. He doubted she had ever expected a return to Hawkins to be so dramatic. She had told him one night, over a cold beer and a stolen cigarette that Hawkins wasn’t the sleepy little town she remembered. He had asked if that was a good or a bad thing, scared she might be about to run away again, and a little jealous that she had that chance. Instead, she had handed his cigarette back to him and said she’d let him know. Then, she had tucked herself back against his chest, and his worries, envy, and the trickle of fear immediately vanished.

She moved in her sleep, her head and hand coming to rest over Hopper’s broad, bare chest. The blanket slipped down her body as she stretched one leg over his thick thigh. A smile tugged at his lips, still amazed that a man like him had been granted this chance. He studied her breathing, slow and easy, the way her eyelids fluttered every few minutes. She’d be awake soon, and then it would be time for smokes and coffee and – if he was lucky – she’d cook him breakfast. She wouldn’t tell him what her secret was, but he had never had bacon the way she made it, and now he craved it more than any powdered doughnut at the station. He held her close, hand snaking up the rumpled flannel shirt of his. He loved how she wore them, how they were too big in most places, but in some seemed just right on her. The neck always slipped off one shoulder, the buttons never fastened that high up, and while it barely reached her thighs it seemed to hold her ass the way Hopper wished he could do most of the time. The deliciously devilish thought danced through his mind and heat pooled low in his stomach. She let out a quiet content moan, a soft sigh and then her eyes slowly opened, blinking once before her head tilted up to find Hopper’s face. Sleep left her features soft, and Hopper knew that if he left her alone, she could drift back off in a few short moments. Instead, she smiled at him, a dopey Sunday morning smile that followed a good night’s sleep. Pulling herself closer to him, her leg now fell between his and the hand that had been on his chest looped to his neck, fingers resting under the ends of his hair. They’d been in this position too many mornings, and often they had both ended up running late for work because of it.  
“Mornin’, Hop.” Her words were thick, heavy, but my god he had never felt more in love.  
“Hey, baby.”  
“Bacon?” She asked on a sleep laced breath, nuzzling her nose into his neck.  
“Five more minutes.” He answered, wrapping his arms around her, eliciting a soft giggle from her.  
Yeah, this was definitely the way Jim Hopper wanted to start his mornings.


End file.
